Page 27 of Beast of Blood and Roses (Dark Ever After Fairytales #1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Rosalie

The vision didn’t make sense. Why would The Witch’s Heart show me my father? I stared at the empty air where his image had been. I had asked about the intruder, not my dad. The amulet felt heavy and warm in my palm, as if it was mocking me with its cryptic answer.

I replayed the vision in my mind, trying to make sense of what I’d seen.

He almost looked younger. The tight lines around his mouth and eyes were gone.

I didn’t recognize those clothes—the crisp white shirt, the expensive-looking fabric.

My stomach knotted with unease. Were they new? Where did he get the money for that?

My hands clenched into fists as a bitter realization crept in. He looked like he was living it up on the town after giving me to the beast. While I’d been trapped here, terrified and learning I was a witch, he’d apparently been out buying new clothes and gambling at upscale casinos .

Heat flushed my cheeks as anger began to build in my chest. “He looked...different,” I said slowly, my voice tight with barely controlled emotion. “Clean. Well-dressed. Like he had money to spend.” I looked up at Beast, searching his face for answers. “How is that possible if he owes people money?”

Beast shrugged. “I don’t know.”

The pieces didn’t fit, and the more I thought about it, the more wrong everything felt. “Can The Witch’s Heart show me something in the past?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” I shook my head, confusion and irritation warring in my chest. “I wasn’t asking about my dad’s past. I was asking about who was stalking me. Can I try again?”

“First tell me how you feel.” His look showed a flicker of concern that made me pause.

I scowled, gritting my teeth. “I feel fine. Why?”

“Because The Witch’s Heart can drain you, especially if you’ve never used it before.” He studied my face carefully, as if looking for signs of exhaustion.

“You just used it. Are you drained?” I crossed my arms, challenging him.

He chuckled, a low rumble that would have been comforting under different circumstances. “That’s different. I’m a cursed vampire. It would take using it several times before it affected me.”

Anger and frustration burned through me like fire, chasing away any hint of fatigue. Weariness was the last thing I felt. I was practically vibrating with energy and determination. “Well, I feel fine. I want to try again.”

“You will tell me if you’re feeling drained. I want your word on that. ”

“I will. You have my word.” Before he could change his mind, I blurted, “Show me the intruder. Not my father.”

Nothing happened for several long heartbeats, the silence stretching between us like a held breath.

Panic began to flutter in my throat. What if I’d lost the ability already?

Then The Witch’s Heart began to vibrate in my palm, a subtle tremor that quickly intensified into a violent pulsing that seemed to match my racing heartbeat.

My chest fluttered wildly, as if a trapped bird was beating its wings against my ribs. Tingles shot down my arm like liquid lightning, making every hair on my body stand straight up. The sensation was electric and overwhelming, spreading from the amulet through my entire nervous system.

The dual-colored stone grew warm in my hand, then became burning hot, so hot I could smell the sulfurous scent of singed skin.

But I couldn’t let go, couldn’t release my grip no matter how much it hurt.

The heat intensified until it felt like holding molten metal, the ruby and black diamond surfaces searing into my palm.

My lungs seized up, refusing to draw air. Each breath became a struggle, shallow and ragged, as if the amulet was stealing the oxygen from my body. My heartbeat seemed to slow to an unnatural rhythm, each thump echoing hollowly in my ears like a funeral drum.

The world around me began to blur and shift.

Beast’s concerned face went in and out of focus, his features wavering like a mirage.

His voice sounded distant and muffled, as if he was calling to me from underwater.

Black spots danced at the edges of my vision, growing larger with each labored breath.

My fingers, slick with sweat and trembling uncontrollably, finally loosened their death grip. The amulet dropped from my nerveless hand, hitting the floor with a metallic clink that seemed impossibly loud in the sudden silence.

I swayed on my feet, the room tilting dangerously around me. Before I could fall, strong arms caught me, lifting me against a broad chest that smelled of flour and something wild and masculine. The last thing I registered was Beast’s panicked voice calling my name as darkness claimed me.

Warmth fell across my cheeks like a gentle caress, and a loud snarl—deep and animalistic—jolted me awake. My eyes fluttered open to find myself tucked beneath a soft blanket in my bedroom.

Beast slept fitfully in a large leather chair he’d dragged close to my bedside, his massive frame looking uncomfortable in the confined space.

He still had flour dusting his dark fur and clothes from his earlier baking disaster, and I could see The Witch’s Heart resting against his chest, the dual-colored stone rising and falling with each of his breaths.

Even in sleep, his face was creased with worry.

My palm still tingled where it had burned me, and shame washed over me. I should have respected its power more instead of giving in to my frustration and anger like a petulant child.

I pulled the soft blanket tighter around me, cocooning myself in its warmth while I watched Beast’s sleeping form. He must have stayed with me all night, keeping vigil like some protective guardian. The realization made my throat tight with emotion.

When I was sick as a child, I could never remember my dad ever staying with me like this.

He’d always treated my illnesses as if I was more of a bother than a concern, tossing me some aspirin and leaving me to fend for myself.

No homemade chicken soup or other remedies like the other kids’ parents provided.

No cool washcloths on my forehead or gentle words of comfort.

I was always on my own, left to suffer through fevers and nightmares in solitude.

Yet here sat this formidable predator, keeping a gentle vigil over me as if I was something precious worth protecting.

There was a soft knock on the door, barely audible in the quiet morning light. I jumped, my heart skipping a beat. “ Mademoiselle ?” Colette hesitated as she cracked the door open and peered inside my bedroom.

I slowly sat up, my muscles protesting after whatever The Witch’s Heart had put me through, and stretched my arms with a soft groan. “Good morning.”

Beast snorted loudly, and his eyes flew open, immediately alert. His head whipped toward me, scanning for danger. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I winced slightly as I lowered my arms, feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. “I just feel tired.” I studied his worried face, taking in the way his fur stuck up at odd angles and the crease marks from the chair pressed into his cheek. “You stayed here all night?”

“You were drained.” He carefully got out of the chair, moving like an old man as stiffness clearly plagued every joint. His hand went to his lower back with a barely suppressed wince.

Colette glanced between the beast and me, her eyes twinkling with something that might have been knowing amusement. “I didn’t know where you were, monsieur , but I have made breakfast. Are either of you hungry?”

My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Heat flushed my cheeks. “I’m famished.”

Beast held out his claw, his movements careful and deliberate. “Then you should eat. You need to build up your strength.”

I scooted off the bed, my legs feeling unsteady beneath me. I took his offered claw. His grip was warm and reassuring as he pulled me to my feet with gentle care, as if I might shatter.

I still wore the same clothes from yesterday, and they felt heavy and strange against my skin. Suddenly, I desperately wanted to wash away whatever residual magic was clinging to me. I could almost feel it like invisible cobwebs, continuing to sap my energy with every breath.

“I need to take a quick shower.” I ran my hands through my tangled hair, grimacing at how disheveled I must look.

Beast gave me a wary look, his green eyes scanning my face as if he was worried I might collapse right there on the bedroom floor.

I held up my hand before he could protest. “I’ll be fine.” I gave him a pointed once-over, taking in his flour-dusted appearance and wrinkled clothes. “You look like you could use one too.”

He glanced down at his clothes and scowled, brushing at the flour still stubbornly clinging to the fabric. Self-consciousness flickered across his features as he realized how rumpled he appeared. He looked up at Colette, his expression becoming protective and serious. “Stay with her.”

I was about to argue with him, but I was too tired and just wanted to take a shower. If he wanted Colette with me to make sure I didn’t collapse, so be it.

My legs were wobbly as I grabbed some undergarments, a red T-shirt, and a pair of jeans from my dresser, where Colette had neatly arranged all the new clothing.

Maybe it was a good idea to have supervision.

The Witch’s Heart might not be through with punishing me for trying to force it to reveal more.